But as we travelled farther into the Wolfmark the city seemed to sink deeper into the plain and the dark castle of Duke Casimir to shoot ever higher into the skies.

So that presently, as we looked back, we could only see the Wolfsberg itself, the abode of cruelty and wrong, standing black against the white sky of noon.
Its flanking towers stood up above the battlemented wall, their turrets climbing higher and higher towards heaven, till the topmost Red Tower--that in which my father's garrot was, and in which I had spent my entire life until this day--soared straight upward above them all, like a threatening index-finger pointing, not into the clear sky of a summer's noon, but into clouds and thick darkness.
I was glad when at last we lost sight of it.

Then, indeed, I felt that I had left my old life behind me.

And, in spite of the Lady Ysolinde's ink-pool prophecy and my love for my father (such as it was), I did not mean ever to trust myself within that baleful circle of gray and weary plain upon which the Red Tower looked down.
Seeing that the maids were inclined to talk the one with the other, or rather that the Lady Ysolinde spoke confidentially with Helene, and that Helene now answered her without embarrassment and with frank, equal glances, I dropped gradually behind and rode with the two stout men-at-arms.

These I found to be honest lads enough, but of a strangely reserved and taciturn nature, each ever waiting for the other to answer--being, like most Wendish men, much averse to questioning and still more stiff as to replying.
"You are men of Plassenburg ?" I said to the nearest, simply and innocently enough, for the purpose of improving the cordiality of our relations.
Whereupon he turned his head slowly about to his neighbor, as it were to consult him.